


The Game Is On Again

by shiny_glor_chan



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BBC Sherlock - Freeform, Gen, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-14 13:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiny_glor_chan/pseuds/shiny_glor_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sentiment. What a hateful word to geniuses like us...</p>
<p>OR</p>
<p>What happened at St. Bart's? I must have blacked out. -JM</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game Is On Again

**Author's Note:**

> I am bad at anon. So bad at anon. I was going to see what anons thought at the meme, but I have no patience, and this is the first fic I've finished in AGES. *attention whore obviously needs attention, ugh* SO, prompt: "Sherlock receives this text: What happened at St. Bart's? I must have blacked out. -JM" **SPOILERS** for The Reichenbach Fall, obviously. (Ugh, the typos I left in the kink meme version; I'm ashamed of myself.) [Sherlock BBC Kink Meme Link](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/15638.html?thread=110163222#t110163222)

It was always hateful when one thought they had the upper hand only to have it ruined by one, tiny detail. Sherlock glared at his mobile, and the text message he had just received.

_What happened at St. Bart's? I must have blacked out. -JM_

It could have easily been one of Moriarty's minions, but Sherlock was quite sure no one in the organization thought quite like Jim Moriarty. This text was signature Moriarty, but how had he- Of course, it had been obvious. Sherlock hadn't the time to check if Moriarty had actually been dead. A miscalculation on his end, but he couldn't worry about that at the time; his friends' lives were in danger the longer he was still 'alive'.

_It seems we are at an impasse. -SH_

Sherlock hit send, glaring at his mobile as if it had done him some great injustice. It lit up in his hand a moment later with a small ding. With a flick of his thumb, the text opened on the screen.

_The Game is On again, my dear Holmes. No distractions or other people. Just you and I. Who will find whom first, I wonder? -JM_

Fighting the urge to grin at the thrilling thought of another game, Sherlock shot off his next text.

_No dragging others into this, Moriarty. -SH_

The reply came within a few seconds. _Oh, Sherlock. You won your friends' safety already. Don't tempt me to bring them back into the Game. -JM_

Another message beeped soon after. _Let's see how fast you can attempt to dismantle my organization and get back to your friends. They'll hate you if you come back alive. Fake deaths and lies, aren't you a bad friend. -JM_

_They'll be alive to hate me. That's enough. -SH_ Sherlock typed, swallowing thickly and trying very hard to delete the thought of John's face, angry and unforgiving.

When he received the next text, there was a file attached; once the text opened, Moriarty's laughter filed the air from the sound bite. _Oh, sentiment. How dreadfully normal of you, Sherlock Holmes. Don't bore me so. -JM_

_Strange. I was going to say the same of you, Jim. -SH_

The next took longer than the last. _Whatever do you mean? That 'fall' to the pavement must have scrambled your brain. -JM_

_No more than that bullet to the head scrambled yours, my dear. -SH_

_No, no, no. You seem think I have sentiment. You must rid yourself of this disgusting thought. -JM_

Sherlock allowed himself a smirk as he sent his next. _Moriarty, the lady doth protest too much. What, did you get yourself a 'live-in one'? -SH_

After almost a full half minute of no response, Sherlock sent off his next text. _And that's as much an answer as I need. When I find out who it is, I won't go after him. This stands as long as John stays untouched by you or your minions. -SH_

It didn't take long for the response. _None of my associates know I am alive, but they have no reason to 'avenge' me. -JM_

That was as much of an agreement to this proviso as Sherlock was going to get out of Moriarty, he knew. _Then let the Game begin. -SH_

With that, Sherlock pocketed his mobile and disappeared into a nearby crowd.


End file.
